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Rated: 13+ · Letter/Memo · Dark · #2197782
Please be aware that this letter does talk about rape and drugs.
To my dear friend,

I loved you like a sister. We were inseparable and thought of ourselves as soulmates. It was like our minds knew each other better than anyone, just one look and we knew how to finish each other's thoughts. Losing you was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to go through, and yet I didn’t physically lose you, you’re still here. But the soul that was intertwined with mine is now somewhere far beneath you, trapped in a darkness that you will never shake. I miss you so much even now after all these years.

We both stupidly let guys come between us, both abusive, and both of us thinking we were doing the right thing. I will always regret not being there to support you with my whole heart. I let myself be led astray and for that, I am sorry. I am writing you a ghost letter because I know that if I were ever to say any of these things, there would be two possible outcomes. One, you would scoff at me and hate me even more than you do now or two, you would forgive me out of kindness, out of obligation, and we would never really regain what we once had, and I can’t bear to keep tainting our memories like that.

The amount of laughing we would do, and your sad soul resting on mine, I sang you lullabies while stroking your hair to send you to sleep. We were in high school. Too pure for life. When you would get attacked by animals, I was the one who disinfected your wounds and cared for them. When you felt insecure, I was the one who told you, you were beautiful and no one else needed to matter for that. When you were kicked out of home, I took you in.

But of course, me saying all these things, it’s selfish. I did always think I was there for you more than me, but I didn’t think that at the time, it was unconditional love. Unconditional friendship.

A few years went by and things got bad very quickly, didn’t they? You met him, and I met mine. They filled our heads with sweet words of promise, a normal romance for us to have. But it turned ugly very soon. I didn’t realize how much pain you were in then, and you still don’t know about mine, and you never will.

You moved into his home, dropped out of high school, starting dropping all your contacts. You were isolated by him, I can see that now. He would make you jealous on purpose to make you feel like you were crazy. He would touch you when you didn’t want to be touched, and when you turned to the only other female in the house for help, she told you it was normal, that it was okay.

It seemed to get better for a while after a friend moved in, but then you took those pills, and I got a phone call from your mother late that night. I was shocked, sad, but I wasn’t close enough to be able to care anymore. I didn’t have the right. We then learned something sickening later on about that night, that whilst you lay there dying, on the cold floor, where he found you, he thought it would be alright before he called for help, to take advantage of you.

It wasn’t long after that, that you finally got the courage to leave him, after two long years of abuse, you left, and jumped straight into another relationship that ended up worse somehow. You turned to drugs to help you cope with what you had gone through, and he supported you in doing so. Soft at first, a bit of green, suffering smoke. Until it became daily, hourly. For months, it messed with your head, making you paranoid. You didn’t want people to know where you lived, you started blocking people on social media, and then you turned to heavier things. Anything that would help you get away from that pain, you wanted.

You started making friends with other drug-induced people, getting further and further away from who you used to be. When I saw you again, I could hardly recognize you. It had been so long and you looked so pale, with those bags under your eyes, and your eyes, they held so much pain and confusion. You put your hands on me and your other friend, your last two remaining ties to your olf self, and shattered it all at once. You were so crazed that you punched a window and needed stitches. You made me want to cry for who you were, and I have been ever since.

If only I had held out my hand to you back then, maybe you would have been better off now. I don’t really know where you are now, I know you’re in another relationship now, and I just hope that he helps you the way you deserve to be helped. I miss you, my friend.

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